


Time Stream

by WishaDream



Series: Things I wrote in Middle/High school [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Ancient China, Angst, Character Development, Desperation, F/M, Fluff, From The Author And The Characters, Heartbreak, I should delete it, Losing My Mind, Lost Love, Romance, Time Travel, archeology, folders full of garbage like this, how did i find the time to write so much garbage, i just liked writing for fun back then, i know younger me did some research for this but not enough i'm sure, losing all credibility by posting this, love through time, maybe it will inspire someone, or maybe not at all, playful, probably going to delete this later, sTILL DO, this might be a way of showing how much i've grown as an author, why am I doing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24810784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishaDream/pseuds/WishaDream
Summary: Wesley finds a magic stream that takes him back in time.
Series: Things I wrote in Middle/High school [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794586





	Time Stream

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't even remember writing half of these but I remember enjoying writing them so I thought I'd share some of them in case someone got some joy out of reading them. I didn't really have the time to rewrite any of them, some I know I've gone over several times to make better, some I think are the first draft, but again, more for entertainment than anything. Hopefully you'll enjoy them (unsure grimace.)

Time Stream

Prologue

(work on this but want to start out like this)

Just yesterday Wesley Newport had been a twenty (age) year old businessman. He'd kissed his model girlfriend--who now didn't recognize him--and had purchased a small company for his father's business. Now he couldn't even buy a beer to help numb him--something he'd often done before--done to numb the voice telling him his life wasn't how it should be. The voice was even louder now as he stared at himself in the mirror. A young man looking sixteen(age?) with blue hair stared back.  
"Who are you?" asked the reflection.  
The voice was his own. In fact, it was him. Somehow between yesterday and today he'd reverted to his teenaged self.   
For the hundredth time in his life he asked his reflection, "What have you become?"

Chapter One (just make them chapters. short stories can have chapters, right?)

"Wesley! Wesley Newport!"  
From the third story of the penthouse apartments the man called for his son. But through the mile of forest behind the complex his son didn't hear him.  
Ever since the family had moved into the penthouse apartments when Wesley was ten, the boy had taken every chance he could to run away into the woods. He found it hard though as for the first few years he had the many eyes of the apartment staff watching him. Since his father owned the building he expected them to act as babysitters for his son when he wasn't around.  
The building complex was set up like an apartment with staffing like a hotel. A chef had been employed to make meals for the residents along with a maid service. There was even a bus-boy to help residents when they came home with luggage or an over abundance of shopping bags.  
It wasn't till Wesley was a few years older and had learned the power of money that he finally perfected his escape. With the knowledge of the importance of money he used it to bribe the bus-boy who left a back door open for him. When Wesley had snuck past all the staff and residents he just had to make it to the service entrance and then he was able to escape out into the woods behind the building. Once there he could do whatever he wanted. Sometimes that ability kept him out the whole night. Most times he made sure to be back before night fall as the times he stayed out later made the staff's eyes keener the next day. The order of his father to not let it "happen again" made even the bus boy wary to help him. But when he was in the woods he was free from all that.   
In the woods the young boy built himself a haven in a spot far from the complex and his father. It was a small clearing with a small stream that seemed to bubble up from the ground. Around the stream grew tall blue spruce and oak trees. From the spruce he hung dream catchers he had made along with a leather strap which held a yin-yang pendant. Under one of the trees he put a wooden chest which he filled with sketches he made. Sketches of the trees, of people at the hotel, or buildings he saw outside his window. Anything and everything that caught his eye he would draw. His favorite thing was the scenes of nature. Birds in the trees. The sunset as it shone through the tree tops. Images which he found even more beautiful than anything man could make.   
Out in the woods he was free to do pursue the skill. Free from his father and the dreams his father had for him. Dreams which did not include Wesley's love of drawing or nature. There he could sketch all he wanted and not be bothered by school or the judgmental gaze of his father.   
His father, Wesley Newport the First, owned several large corporations. He wanted Wesley to take over for him so he enrolled him in an elite school. In addition to the private school he hired tutors to teach him right after school was over. Every waking moment Wesley felt as if he was under his father's thumb. Pressed down by the overwhelming expectations the man held for him. Trapped in the thoughts of the future he was expected to one day have.  
"I don't want to do it," Wesley told the woods around him everyday. "I don't want to be the man my father wants me to be. I just want to be a kid."  
But like the woods, his father never listened when he told him this.  
"You don't have time to play around," his father always told him. "You are my son. And as my son you have responsibilities. You will learn everything you need to so when the time comes you can take over for me."  
"But what if I don't want to run the business? What if I want to do something else?"  
"Like what?"  
But Wesley never had an answer for that. All he wanted at that moment was to be a kid. So when the tutor was looking away, or when he got off school early before the tutor arrived, he was off to the woods. His only escape.

* * *

When Wesley turned sixteen he dyed his hair a dark blue color. He also started wearing torn up jeans which sported grass stains from his time in the woods. His shirts displayed names of punk rock bands and images of his favorite video game characters. That was the final straw for his father. He told Wesley after that he'd start an internship at one of his buildings.  
"I don't want to hear it," his father said when Wesley started to object. "This will help you get the experience you need to run the company. Besides, it's time you grew up and stopped acting like some punk kid."  
That day Wesley ran away into the woods. He knew he'd have to go back, but for now he just wanted to be alone in his safe haven.  
The small stream made a soft bubbling sound as it flowed over small pebbles. The trees above made sounds like soft breathing as the wind blew through them. The breeze that day smelled like wildflowers and honey and made Wesley feel slightly calmer. He loved the silence of the woods. When things at home were chaotic and his father was especially pestering him, the woods made him calm. Even the sounds of the woods felt like silence compared to the sounds of the city and his home.  
Wesley picked up a stone from the water of the stream. He grippe the stone in his hand and let it slide around in his palm. The stone felt cold and wet. It felt good against the heat from his skin. The thought of the internship really had him agitated. It felt like the final nail in the coffin before it was lowered into the grave that was his dream for freedom. If he took the internship he knew he'd never be able to escape the path his father had set out for him.  
"I never want to become like my father," he told the trees. "I'd much rather be a 'punk kid' forever than ever become like my father." He squeezed the stone in his hand as he said this. "I never want to be like him."  
As usual the woods didn't respond. He didn't expect them to. He just felt good venting to someone. But as he often did when there was no response, he wished for a compatriot. Someone who would listen to him about his father. Someone who would understand.   
Unlike his tutors or classmates who didn't understand at all. They thought he was lucky that he had his future planned out for him. That his father was "practically" giving him a lifelong job. But Wesley didn't feel that way at all. He'd much rather pave out his own path. A path separate from his father's.  
As the sun faded below the treetops Wesley wanted to stay longer but he knew he shouldn't. His father's patience was wearing especially thin of late. But Wesley knew after this he'd probably never be able to escape to the woods again. He didn't know why he thought this, it was just a feeling he had. So as long as he could he stayed there in his secret spot. Just as the sun was about to set he rose to leave.  
Before going he turned back and tossed the stone in his hand into the stream. After that he walked back through the woods, his feet making a crunching sound as he walked over the dried needles covering the ground. As the sun set the water in the stream started to sparkle as it ran over the stone.  
"I never want to become like my father." The words he had pressed into the stone as he held it were washed away as the stream ran over it. The lights from the water grew brighter as the words swirled around in them. "I'd much rather be a 'punk kid' forever."   
The lights died and the water began to flow as normal. In the silence of the woods the only sound came from the stream as it trickled across the rocks lining the ground.   
The rock Wesley had held was completely washed away by the waters of the stream by the time another person found the spot. After that the stream stopped flowing.

* * *

After high school Wesley went to the college of his father's choosing. He got a degree in business and then started work at his father's new office building. The building was built directly behind the woods behind the penthouse apartment building in which he had grown up.  
"That way you won't have any excuse for being late," his father said.  
At the office his father had him start in the mailroom. "You need to work your way up."  
On his first day of work Wesley delivered mail to a girl on the third floor. Her name was Gwen Eriksson and it was also her first day. Or so she informed him in a nervous babble as he gave her the mail. She had a slight British accent which she explained was because she had attended Cambridge for her four years of college.  
"It was at my graduation ceremony that I met Mr. Newport," she explained. "He offered me a job here."  
"That was very lucky for you," Wesley replied. He lingered even though he had work to do. She was cute in a kind of "young businesswoman" way. She was 5'4" and had a petite build. Her eyes were blue green, reminding him of the color of blue spruce and she smelled like spring. Her hair was thick and wavy and resembled the color of honey. She wore it cut just below the shoulders and more often than not just tied it up in a bun.  
Her smile was warm and for the next few days he found himself visiting her office even when she didn't have any mail. He told himself it was not because he liked her. In fact, she wasn't even his type. Since college he had only dated girls younger than him with a model's tall and slender build. If she had just been a few years younger instead of the same age as him and had been taller she would have been perfect. Even though she wasn't his type he hung around her. It was easy to talk to her and he soon found himself thinking of her as a friend.  
When he was on his break, or when he just wanted to get away from the mail room he often found himself in her office. They talked about all kinds of things ranging from the latest video games.  
"I can't believe you play Demons Might Weep. I didn't know girls played those types of games."  
To music.  
"You like country and techno-rave? That's a weird taste combination. Is that some kind of British thing you picked up?"  
As they spent more time together, days becoming months, Wesley noted that when she was happy, which was most times, she would listen to techno-rave music. He didn't know anyone else who did it, but somehow she sang along with it. She would move around the office when she didn't think anyone was watching, dancing to the music with a happy smile as she made sounds along with the beats of the rhythmic pounding. But when she was sad she would play her country music soundtrack. When she listened to that music she didn't sing along at all. She wouldn't even sway or rock her head along with the song. The only way you knew she was even listening to music was because of the sound of the guitar that came through the headphones.  
On the rare days she didn't sing along with her music he avoided her. Something about the way she just sat there in complete silence told him she wanted to be alone. On those days he just kept rolling his mail cart past.  
Three months passed since his first day and Wesley got a promotion. He was given his own cubicle and though he wanted to--he didn't decorate it.  
"You could put up a poster of that band you like," Gwen told him as they ate lunch together at the local bistro.  
He nodded as he stared at the sandwich he held in front of his face. "My dad would just have me take it down when he comes to visit. I had a small space in the mailroom and when I put an action figure of Durante there he saw it and made me take it home."  
"If you want, you can decorate a space in my office."  
His face broke into a smile as he asked, "Really?" To which she nodded with her own smile. "Thanks."  
As Gwen looked down at her salad Wesley's smile dropped. He knew he didn't deserve the cubicle anymore than he did the promotion. He wished his dad hadn't promoted him at all. Even though he hated the mail room--he knew that position fit his skill level more than his new position. Another bad thing was that with the new job he wouldn't be able to see Gwen as much. Leaving his cubicle on the second floor to see her on the third floor was harder to do than when he didn't have the excuse that she had mail.  
But as the days passed he found that even without that excuse he was still able to find a way to visit her everyday. Sometimes when she wasn't even there.

* * *

Wesley opened the door to Gwen's office. As he'd hoped it was empty. He grinned as he turned to look back at the tall woman with long bleach blonde hair.  
"Well, this is my office."  
The woman stepped in and looked around as he turned on the lights. "Ooh, it's so fancy." She turned and traced her finger along his chest. He felt the hair at the back of his neck tingle as she grinned at him. "I do so love the businessman type." She leaned in close and he could feel her warm breath on his skin. She whispered seductively in his ear, "Do you want to try and negotiate a merger with me?"  
Wesley grinned and started to respond but was interrupted as the office door opened.  
Gwen stood in the doorway. She smiled at the two but Wesley could see her nostrils flaring, something he'd noted she did when she was annoyed. "Oh hey, you showing her around the office?"  
"She's not saying anything about it being her office," Wesley thought. "Maybe she won't snitch on me."  
He smiled and turned to the girl he had first come in with. "This is my coworker Gwen Eriksson."  
The woman smiled cordially and waved to Gwen. "Isn't he just a cutie?" she asked as she grabbed Wesley by the tie and pulled him in close. "I could just eat him up."  
Gwen's cheek twitched as she smiled and folded her arms across her chest. "You could definitely do something with him."  
"Did you need some help with something?" Wesley asked. He hoped she'd just leave them alone. Give them some time to mess around.  
Gwen did notice his plaintive stare. She rolled her eyes as she turned and stepped out of her office. "Don't make a mess."  
Wesley smiled as the door closed behind her. He turned back to his date. "Now about that merger..."

* * *

Six months passed and Wesley received another promotion, this time to the third floor with an office two doors down from Gwen. With the promotion Wesley began to feel agitated like a horse in a racing stall. Every day he could feel himself becoming more and more like the man his father wanted him to be. With each new deal he closed he felt the boy he had once been fade away. The fear that his old self would completely fade away made him start running off with his college friends every chance he got. The parties they threw and the places they went reminded him of his college days. Days before he was completely trapped under his father's thumb. When he wasn't under the constant gaze of his father..  
But as Wesley ran away from work for a second week in a row he found that his life was different now than in college. Now when he missed work his father sent his security man after Wesley. He couldn't get away for more than a day before the man caught up with him and brought him back. With the inability to escape to the islands or the woods for a camping trip, Wesley began to resort to other methods to get away.

That first year of his newest promotion Wesley came to work hung over or drunk more often than sober. This caused his coworkers to become annoyed with him and resent him even more for his promotion. Though Gwen stayed his friend, he could tell he was annoying her. She had this strange habit of smiling when she was annoyed. While she looked happy with her bright smile her nostrils gave her away. They would always flare when she was especially annoyed at him.  
Her nostrils flared more than ever that first year. Whenever he came in drunk or hung over she would cover for him. And when he started staying out longer and coming in later, she would make an excuse for his tardiness.  
Even though she was being a better friend than he deserved that same year he stopped going to lunch with her. Instead he used the time to hang out with his girlfriend. Unlike Gwen, she was his type. An ex-model who spoke with a Russian accent.   
He could tell his choice in company upset Gwen but the few times he saw her she didn't bring it up. Instead she'd smile and talk to him--their conversations picking up as if no time had passed at all.  
Wesley thought he had the best life--even if he didn't enjoy his job. His coworkers envied him and he caused them more envy when, at the next office party, he brought his girlfriend.  
"Gwen this is Natalia," Wesley said as he motioned to the still model thin woman. Natalia looked bored as she glanced at Gwen and muttered a greeting.   
Gwen politely smiled back and said her own greeting. "You're very pretty."  
Natalia waved her hand in a dismissive way as she thanked Gwen. "I'm going to say hi to Pieter." She left.  
"She seems nice."  
Wesley grinned like an arrogant child. Men at the party had been shooting him envious looks all night. And he could tell the woman were just as jealous but for the reason that they wished they looked as great as her. And even though he'd expected her to be bitter about the time he spent with Natalia Gwen actually sounded genuinely happy. Not jealous like the rest of his coworkers who hid resentment, some better than others, as they commented on his date.  
"You seem...happy," she paused before saying the final word. Even when they hadn't known each other that long she could tell when he was having a rough time at work. When he wasn't as happy as he let on. And as always she was right. He wasn't happy. Not as happy as he thought he should be. Though he was having run with his party boy lifestyle and model girls--his life still felt incomplete. Empty. No matter what he did it remained that way--with an opening that refused to be filled.  
"You should have seen my last girlfriend," he bragged--trying to change the subject from his true misery, "She was a current model."  
"What happened to her?" Again Gwen sounded genuinely interested. Anyone else would ask just as a ways to hear how he had messed up. Everyone he knew was always looking for ways he messed up--times he had failed. Anything that reminded them what a failure he was and which made them feel better about themselves. Gwen was the only person he knew that actually cared about him and how he felt.  
Instead of the usual lie he told people, he actually told the truth. "She dumped me for her photographer. Said I was distant or something." He returned to a lie as he shrugged as if the whole occurrence hadn't mattered to him. He even looked away as if he was bored with the whole subject.  
"You can be that." Wesley hadn't expected the comment and turned to look at her. She smiled and he smiled back.  
Though they didn't talk as much, he felt just as close to her as he had a year ago. For the rest of the night he stayed with her, talking about different things and catching up on the events in her life. By the end, when his girlfriend said she was ready to go, he was sad to leave. Though his heart wanted to stay he made himself leave. He could tell it hurt her but he made himself not care. That was just the kind of guy he was now.

* * *

Another year passed and Wesley was promoted again. Though Gwen was working hard and even did his work when he slacked she kept the same position. At the news of his promotion Wesley heard his coworkers commenting on how yet again the "golden boy" had been chosen above those more deserving. Those like Gwen, who yet again were being over looked.   
As before he knew he didn't deserve the promotion. He hadn't deserved any of them. But with each new office and pay raise he found it harder to care. With the pay raise he could drown his doubts in pretty girls, fast cars, and illegal things which numbed the sadness which resided deep inside his chest.  
(Start)With his promotion he was moved up to the fourth floor while Gwen remained on the third. By that third year he saw her less. Less time with her and more responsibility meant more drinking and partying. By the end of that year he barely remembered anything that had happened. Each day was just another day going through the motions. They all began to blur together and before the end of his third year he didn't remember anything.   
He woke up the first day of the fourth year lying in the middle of the living room of his penthouse. The place was trashed from the party the night before celebrating the new year. Everyone had already left by that time but he heard someone making sounds in the kitchen.  
"Come back later," he called as his head throbbed. He knew the maid service had a key and had probably come in to clean up thinking he'd already left for work. He heard the clattering in the kitchen continue. "Come back later."  
He got up and started to sway towards the kitchen as the sounds continued. He entered the kitchen ready to snap at the maid. He stopped when he saw Gwen standing in the kitchen with a bowl in her hand.  
"What are you doing?"   
She set the bowl down and bent down to pull out something more from the cabinet. "I'm making you breakfast. And then I'm going to help you sober up permanently."  
"Did my dad put you up to this?"  
Gwen turned and looked at him, hearing the annoyance in his voice. She stood and stepped towards him. "Your father doesn't have anything to do with this. I want to do this. Because you're my friend."  
He hadn't seen her much the previous year. Either because he was too drunk to remember or she had been avoiding him. He knew the other people at work were fed up with him. So why was she here?   
"Don't you hate me?"  
Gwen shook her head as she patted his shoulder. "No. Now go sit down and wait while I make your food."  
For the next month Gwen came to his place every morning and stayed with him every night in order to make sure he didn't go out at night to party and that ever day he was on time for work. After that Wesley didn't drink again.

When Wesley reached the position of co-manager three months later his father called him into his office at the main corporate headquarters.  
"I am so proud of you, son. You've come a long way from that punk kid you once were in high school." His father put his arm around him. The two were standing in front of a window looking out at the city. In the glass Wesley was able to see the reflection of him and his father.   
"You're becoming more like me everyday," his father said with a wide smile.  
Wesley could see the shock in his face as the words hit him. Something about them hit a chord in him. He hadn't thought about it in a long time, but he remembered when he was younger he had never wanted that. He had wanted to be anyone but his father. Now his father was telling him he was becoming just like him.  
"I'll leave you to this view," his father said as he started to leave. "Someday this office will be yours."  
Wesley felt a tightness in his chest as he looked out over the city view. It was night now and the lights were shining. It was beautiful but not the most beautiful view he'd ever seen. He was reminded of the view of the night sky from his woods.   
The woods. He hadn't thought about them in years. He couldn't see them from the window of his office back at the complex. He wondered if his father had done that on purpose. Done it as a way to show his past was behind him. That he needed to look forward towards the future.  
As Wesley thought about the woods he remembered how the trees had smelled. Like green and warmth. How a light breeze always seemed to blow through his favorite spot. The breeze always carried the scent of spring flowers, even during the middle of winter. And then the stream. He thought about how cold the water always was. How refreshing it felt against his skin when he splashed it across his face.  
In that moment he wished he could return to that spot. Return to the time when he could go to the woods and not have to worry about meetings or business lunches. When he was free. Or freer than he was now.  
Wesley started to feel a pain in his joints. It started in what felt like the fibers of his bones then it grew till even the hairs of his skin ached. He started to cry out but even the muscles of his throat were so tight with pain that they wouldn't move. His whole body throbbed as he bent over and fell to his knees. His skin felt like it was on fire yet his insides felt like they were drowning in water. As his muscles started to feel like they were being pulled apart he started to black out. Then he did.

The first thing Wesley thought about when he woke up was how strange it was for the woods to smell like his father. Then he opened his eyes.  
The city view was the first thing he saw then he turned to take in the rest of his father's office. He remembered where he was.  
He almost wanted to cry as he thought about how far his life had gone from what he'd imagined for himself when he was younger. He had never wanted this life for himself. And though he'd never known what he would have rather done, anything would have been better than being the man his father wanted.  
His muscles still felt sore as he rose from the floor. He took in a deep breath then let it out slowly.   
"I hate this."  
His voice worked again, but something about it sounded strange. He wondered if he should go to the doctor after the strange attack. Maybe there were some lingering effects that were affecting his voice now.  
He turned to leave the office and caught sight of himself in the glass. He had to do a double take before he ran to the glass and looked at his reflection closer. In the glass he caught sight of himself, but not himself as he knew it now but as he was when he was sixteen.   
His hair was that "awful" blue, as his father had called it. His skin was smooth, free from any facial hair, which he didn't start to grow till he was in college.   
He turned away, thinking he'd hallucinated it. The pain from earlier had messed with his eyes and he'd seen a vision. But when he turned back he saw the same thing. His sixteen year old self waved as he moved his arm to check it wasn't a trick of the light.   
"What is going on here?"  
He left his father's office and headed to the nearest restroom. In the men's room he checked his reflection again. And again he saw his young self staring back.  
He looked down and saw his body matched the reflection. It wasn't just his reflection, it was his body as well. Gone was his six pack and six foot frame which he hadn't gotten till his final year of college. Now he was back to his skinny five foot six awkward teen body.  
"How did this happen?"  
He was wearing his favorite sneakers, the ones his father had thrown away before he'd started his internship in high school.  
"A business man does not wear such ratty sneakers. And he never wears shoes with mud on them."  
Wesley also noted he was wearing grass stained jeans. His pants hadn't had grass stains on them in years. His shirt sported the name of his favorite band in high school. Then he remembered. He had been wearing that same outfit the night before his father had gotten him the internship. The last night he'd visited the woods. The same night he'd made the declaration about never becoming like his father.  
"But I did," Wesley told himself. Then it dawned on him. "I'd rather be a 'punk kid.'" Something had happened to make it so that when he'd become like his father he'd been made to return to the age he'd been when he'd made that wish. Returned him to the age he'd been just before he'd started down the road to becoming the man he'd never wanted to be.  
He didn't know how it had happened or why. But the thought of a second chance excited him. He could grow up again and this time he wouldn't be controlled by his father.  
Wesley left his father's main corporate headquarters with high hopes. As a teen he'd finally get to be who he wanted to be. And this time he wasn't going to let his father stop him.

* * *

As Wesley was going to stay out of his father's control this time around he decided to avoid the man entirely. So instead of returning to his home at the penthouse apartments behind his place of work he went to his current girlfriend's place.  
She was located across town, and as he didn't have any money on his teenage self, he had to walk there. It was morning by the time he reached her upper class apartment. The bell man wouldn't even let him in when he finally reached the door.  
"But I'm here to see Josaline," Wesley insisted. "She's my girlfriend."  
The bell man laughed. Wesley remembered how old he looked. He tried another approach.  
"Okay, I'm her kid brother. I came to see her. So can you let me up."  
The bell man seemed to find that answer a little more convincing but wouldn't let him in till he'd called up to Josaline's apartment.  
When he'd hung up the bell man replied, "She says she doesn't have a brother."  
Wesley groaned. He was starting to see flaws with being a teenager again. Without an adult to help him he was extremely limited.  
Wesley left the building and went across the street. From there he could wait until Josaline came down. When she did he'd show himself to her and explain everything. Then she could help him. With her help he'd get money from his savings account before his father closed it and then he'd be able to start his new life.  
Josaline didn't come down till after noon. And when she did she had another man with her. The two looked intimate but Wesley ignored the fact as he ran across to her.  
"Josaline."  
His girlfriend turned to look at him. Her expression instantly turned to one of annoyance as she stared at him.  
"Are you the punk pretending to be my brother?"  
"Listen Jos, I need your help."  
The man with her stepped in front of her protectively as he asked, "Is this guy bothering you?"  
"Jos listen," Wesley pleaded. "It's me, Wesley."  
The two stared at him as if he'd claimed he was someone ten years older than his current age.  
"Wesley?" asked the other man, "As in your boyfriend. That douche who's paying for your apartment."  
"Oh, don't say that name," replied Josaline with a disgusted click of her tongue, "He's so annoying."  
"Then why don't you dump him?"  
"Because he buys me stuff."  
The man looked like he was pouting. Josaline noticed this as well and grabbed his arm. She rested her head on his shoulder as she baby talked to him, "But you know you're the one I love."  
The man perked up at this.  
Wesley couldn't believe they'd say all this in front of a total stranger. But they'd seemed to have forgotten he was there. As a boy drove up with their car they got in and drove away.  
Wesley didn't know which he was more stunned by. The fact they'd just left or that his girlfriend was cheating on him.  
"But I shouldn't be surprised," he told himself as he trudged away from the building. She hadn't been the first. Ever since he'd started dating in college all his girlfriends had been after him for his money. Even the ones that didn't use him for his money he suspected were just with him for the power that came with his name.  
With Josaline out of the picture Wesley didn't know what to do. Without someone to help him, he'd never be able to access his money. And unless he wanted to get a job and work his way up from there, there was no chance he'd ever find his own path.  
That's when he saw her.   
Gwen Eriksson. He hadn't seen her for a three months. Not since after she'd helped clean him up. He remembered how close they had been before. Back when they had first started working together. How they had talked about things like anime, how the sound of rain calmed them, and the feel of old jeans. To him she had been the closest thing to a sister.  
She looked to be on her lunch break now and was eating alone at a little bistro. Wesley ran across the street. He told himself he'd have to try something else with her. Something other than the truth.  
"Hi."   
She looked up as he greeted her. She tentatively smiled back as she returned his hi. When he didn't leave she asked, "May I help you?"  
"That's my Gwen," Wesley thought as he said aloud, "Yes. I'm--," he paused as he thought a lie up. He tried to remember how much about his family he'd revealed to her. They had talked about so much over the years he had a hard time remembering what he hadn't said. "I'm Wesley's cousin," he finally said.  
"I didn't know Ley had a cousin."  
Wesley smiled as she used his nickname. She was the only one that called him that. While everyone else called him "Wes" for short she went the other route. He loved how she walked to her own beat. He admired it in her. He wished he could be more like her.  
Wesley continued his lie as he said, "Yeah. I'm from his mom's side."  
His words were enough of an explanation for Gwen as she nodded in understanding, "Oh. That explains it. He never likes to talk about her or that side of his family."  
"Because she left him with his dad when she left Wesley Senior," Wesley added in hopes that the added information would make his lie seem more real.  
"So what brings you here?" Gwen motioned to the seat across from her. Wesley sat down. She asked him if he was hungry. In fact he was. She ordered him a grilled sandwich and an iced coffee.  
While they waited for the food Wesley came up with a reason for his visit. "My mom wanted me to see the city. She got a hold of Wes and convinced him to let me stay with him."  
"Well that was nice of him." She said it with a smile but Wesley could tell she was having trouble believing this. The Wesley she knew was not the type to ever do something so generous. Wesley knew she knew about his hate of kids and how little he cared for his mother's side of the family. There was no way he would have ever done anything like that.  
"His dad made him do it," Wesley added hurriedly, hoping to band-aid the crack in his lie. "He says he sees real business potential in me and wants Wes to see if he can't help it grow."  
"That makes more sense."  
The food arrived and Wesley started to eat. He hadn't realized how hungry he was till Gwen had offered food. He had always been a big eater when he was younger. So when he finished the first sandwich and still felt hungry he found himself eyeing Gwen's half-finished salad.  
"Are you still hungry?" Gwen asked, noticing his longing look. "Is Ley remembering to feed you?"  
Wesley nodded. Gwen ordered him another sandwich anyway.  
Wesley bit into the second sandwich as soon as it arrived, "Thanks."  
"You look a lot like him," Gwen said as she looked him over. "Ley that is. When he was younger. I saw a photo of him once at your age. He looked like you."  
Gwen turned away and looked out at the city. There was a sadness in her gaze and Wesley wanted to ask her about it. Before he could her phone rang. She answered it.  
"Hello?" she listened to the person on the other line. Her expression took on one of worry. "Are you sure? He could just be out..." The other person said something. "I see. Alright. I'll be right in."  
Gwen hung up then stood hurriedly. She started out of the bistro, then remembered him and turned back.  
"I need to get to the office. Ley didn't come into work today."  
"Doesn't he do that a lot?"  
"He just got a big promotion yesterday. And he hasn't done that in months. And there's something else."  
Gwen drove Wesley to his father's big corporate building. There were cop cars outside and employees standing in the parking lot answering questions.  
"Why all the cops?" Wesley asked as he followed Gwen into the building. "I heard one time he skipped work for an entire week. He'd left with a group of models to the Caribbean and had just forgotten his phone.  
"This is apparently a little more serious," Gwen replied as they got onto the elevator. "We'll just have to see when we get up there."  
The elevator stopped on the floor of Wesley senior's office. Wesley held back, not wanting his father to see him if he was there.  
The cops were especially thick on that floor as they swept every inch for clues.  
"I'm here," Gwen said as she greeted Wesley Senior's secretary. "Julie, What's going on?"  
Wesley hid behind a potted plant as the secretary replied, "Mr. Newport came in today and found Wes' phone on the floor."  
"So? I've found his phone on the men's room floor a thousand times."  
"That's what the boss thought. That he'd just forgotten it. But when Wes didn't come into work and then the maid found his home empty with no sign he'd returned there the night before."  
"He could have just slept at his girlfriend's," Gwen replied.  
"But she hadn't seen him, or so she told me when I called. Mr. Newport then had the security tapes checked."  
"What was on them?" Gwen sounded worried and Wesley felt guilty for that. He honestly hadn't thought anyone would miss him if he left. All his coworkers hated him thinking the only reason he had his job was because his dad wouldn't let them fire him. And obviously his girlfriend didn't care for him either. He'd forgotten about Gwen. But even he didn't think she'd miss him all that much. Even though they talked and she had helped him he hadn't always been the easiest person to get along with, especially to her. He knew a lot of the times he took advantage of her kindness.  
"The tape showed Mr. Newport and Wesley enter the office. Then after Mr. Newport left Wesley stayed behind. But after that he never came out. Instead some kid left the room and Wesley hasn't been seen since."  
"A kid?" Gwen glanced back but didn't see Wesley as he ducked behind the plant.  
Julie nodded. "They don't know what happened to Wesley as there were no signs of a struggle. All they have to go on is this kid that left the office while Wes was still inside. Mr. Newport has the cops searching for the kid now in hopes he can tell them where Wes went."  
Gwen cast another look back. When she had turned away again Wesley turned and ran. He hadn't thought about how much trouble his older self going missing would cause. And if they caught him now he had no way of knowing if they'd ever believe he was himself. He couldn't take that chance. So he ran.  
Once outside he started running across town. He kept running till he reached his office building. Once there he headed into the woods behind. If he could find the stream, he told himself, he might be able to reverse it. He didn't want to go back to his life, but maybe it was better than being a kid with no way to support himself.   
He stopped running after a moment and looked around. The woods looked different from how he remembered them. It took him a moment to get his bearings. Once he did he started towards the direction of the stream. He started walking faster as he drew closer to where he remembered his special place as being. Then just as he reached the clearing he was stopped by the bricks of the office building. It was then he realized that his father hadn't built the building on the other side of the woods. He had actually built the building in the woods and had just cleared the trees up to a point. The stream and the woods around it were gone now and in its place was a cement complex.

* * *

The cops hadn't arrived at Wesley's place of work yet so he was able to sneak into the building easily. Everyone was too busy gossiping about what trouble Wesley might have gotten himself into now to notice as he snuck up to his office. He remembered his father had framed the building's blue prints and put them on a wall outside his room.  
When he found the blueprints he took them down and headed into his office. He couldn't tell from the drawing where exactly the building was in relation to the stream. Maybe by some small chance Wesley would find that he was wrong about the position of the stream. That it was in fact more to the left of the building and was still in tact.  
Wesley found the file with the land surveyor's report on the company server. As he read it over he found mention of the stream and area around it. The surveyor had noted the articles of decoration Wesley had put up. As he read on he found that his father had started construction on the building after Wesley had left for college. It was around the same time that Wesley hadn't come back from spring break for two weeks. His father had had to hire a private investigator to find him. After that construction had started and the first hole had been dug right in the middle of his sacred place. In fact, the closet of his office was just two stories up from the exact spot the stream had once flowed.   
"He cemented over my stream," Wesley told himself as he finished reading the report. Any hopes of breaking the spell were buried underneath three or more feet of cement.  
Wesley felt the weight of what this meant hit him and held his head in his hands. With his older self missing Wesley knew his father would freeze all of his funds. So even if he got someone to help him he wouldn't be able to get to it now. And then there were the cops. Though Wesley didn't know how clear the image of his younger self was, the fact that they were looking for him was enough of a worry for him.  
Wesley turned as he heard someone talking outside his office. He quickly hid in the closet as he heard them enter. One of the voices was a man's, he didn't recognize it. The other voice did sound familiar, it was Gwen's.  
"This is his office," Gwen was saying to the man. "If you didn't find anything at his or his girlfriend's places, this is the only other place I can think he'd keep anything."  
"I hope this is the place. We're running dry on clues. It's like he just disappeared," replied the man. His voice was deep and had a gravelly sound to it.  
Wesley heard the man sit down at his desk and begin to type at his computer.  
"What's his password?"  
Gwen told him. Her footsteps sounded like they were receding as she started to leave.  
"Can I ask you some questions about him before you go?" asked the man.  
"I don't know how much help I'll be," Gwen replied as she came back into the room. "Ley didn't tell me anything about leaving."  
"He might have and you didn't realize it. From what my men have gleaned, it seems you were the closest to him. Even his girlfriend told us to ask you."  
Wesley couldn't see her face but by the sound of her voice he imagined Gwen blushed at this.  
"Alright, what do you need to know?"  
"His father said he was just promoted yesterday. Did he say anything to you about it?"  
Gwen exhaled slowly before replying. "No. We hadn't talked much of late."  
"Why's that? Did you two have a fight?"  
"Not a fight really. I just...I had stopped talking to him." Gwen's voice choked as she added, "He didn't notice."  
Wesley felt guilty as he realized she was right. After she'd helped him sober up he'd put all his energy into his work. He didn't want to but it was all he could think of doing to keep his mind from the misery he felt every day. Because of that he hadn't noticed that she had indeed stopped talking to him. He regretted that now.  
"Did you two ever go out?" asked the detective.  
There was a long pause before Gwen finally replied in a pained voice, "No."  
"But you liked him?"  
Wesley found the cop's barrage of personal questions annoying. And the fact that he would bother Gwen with such a stupid question was infuriating. Of course she didn't like m--.  
"Yes."  
Wesley was so shocked by the answer that he almost said something. He stopped himself with a hand across the mouth.   
Gwen had liked him? She had never said anything. Why had she never said anything?  
"Did he know?" the officer asked in such a casual way that if Wesley didn't know any better, he would think they were just having a casual conversation about kumquats or some other type of fruit.   
"No. He always had a girlfriend and I never told him."  
"But he had to have known," replied the cop. Wesley was very tempted to just come out and punch the guy. "You two were close. He had to have had at least an inkling."  
"If he did, he never said anything. But I really doubt he did. He's the kind of guy that doesn't notice his surroundings. You could change the color of his office and he wouldn't even know it. So I doubt he'd notice that I like him."  
The detective asked Gwen a few more questions about Wesley and how he got along with his coworkers. He asked if Wesley had any enemies or a secret get-away. When he was done questioning her Gwen left and the man went back to searching Wesley's computer.  
When he'd exhausted that avenue for answers the detective finally left the office. It was late when he did and the room was dark with night as Wesley crawled out of his hiding place. Outside his office was quiet as everyone had left long ago.   
Wesley turned on the lights of his office and looked around. In a corner he found a photo of him and Gwen. He was smiling happily at the camera. To his side Gwen stood. He had never noticed before but though she was facing forward her eyes were looking at him. And for the first time he saw the love in her gaze.   
"She liked me." Wesley couldn't believe how blind he'd been. First he hadn't noticed when the office building was built directly in his woods and now he found he hadn't known when his closest friend had cared for him as more than a co-worker.   
"But it's too late now," Wesley told himself as he caught sight of himself in the glass of the picture. He was a teenager again. Any hopes of returning her feelings were gone along with the extra ten years of age. "If only the stream was still here."  
But as he thought about it he realized that even if he was able to change back it wouldn't change anything. With becoming a teenager he had regained some of his hope he'd lost over the years. But if he was his 26 year old self again he would return to being the blind jerk he had been before. He'd just mess things up with her again.  
"Oh Gwen, I'm so sorry. I was blind. How could I not see that you were the one for me?"  
"You!"  
Wesley turned at the sound and found Gwen standing in the door of his office. Apparently not everyone had gone home.  
"Hey Gwen," Wesley tried greeting her casually but her sharp gaze made him really nervous. "Have they found Wes yet?"  
"You tell me."  
Wesley felt his throat go dry and tried to swallow. "What do you mean?"  
"I saw the video," Gwen replied, "It was you. You were the one leaving the office Ley was in. What happened to him?"  
"I don't know what you are talk--."  
"Drop the act," Gwen looked angry as she stepped towards him. Even with her petite frame Wesley still found her intimidating. "Mr. Newport told me Ley doesn't have any male cousins on his mother's side. So who are you, really?"  
"Wesley's illegitimate son," Wesley tried.  
"You're too old to be his son," Gwen countered. She was right in front of him now and though she should probably be afraid of him, seeing as he was the last one to see Wesley alive, she wasn't. In fact, she was making him scared. He had never seen this look in her eyes before.  
"Listen Gwen, I can explain."  
"Then do so."  
Wesley felt the gears in his mind grind as he tried to think up another lie.  
"And no more lies," Gwen ordered. And by the look in her eyes he knew she meant it. If he wasn't completely honest she would see through it.  
"But she'll never believe me," Wesley told himself. "But I have to try."  
"Gwen, I need you to sit down."  
She folded her arms and remained standing.  
"Okay then, I'll sit." He did so and ran his fingers through his hair. "Alright here's the thing. I do know what happened to Wesley. But no one is ever going to believe me."  
"Try me."  
He stalled by running his hand down over his face and then through his hair again.  
"Don't stall," ordered Gwen.   
"There!" Wesley pointed at her. "How did you know I was stalling?"  
Gwen seemed thrown by this and sounded unsure as she said, "I don't know. I just--."  
"You knew because I do it all the time."  
"But I don't know that. I just met you today."  
"That's not true. You've known me for years."  
Gwen started to object but Wesley continued, "The reason you knew I was stalling is because you see me do it all the time in meetings."  
"In meetings," Gwen was really confused by what he was saying so he decided to just come out with it.  
"Gwen, the reason I know where Wesley went is because I am him."  
It took a few moments for Gwen to register what he had said. When she did she practically pounced on him as she reached out and pulled him up by his collar.  
"Listen you, I don't know what drugs you are doing, but the longer we can't find Wesley the longer he's out there alone. And if he's hurt--"  
"He's not." Wesley placed his hands on top of hers in hopes of soothing her. "Because I'm right here and I'm fine. Other than the age reduction."  
"You better start--!"  
"Listen Gwen, I can prove it."  
Gwen let him go and stepped back to a chair which she slumped down into. She didn't object so he continued.   
"Last year for Carol's birthday I came in completely drunk and peed on her cake."  
Gwen shook her head. "I told the detective that was in here earlier that story. If you've been in here this whole time you would have heard that."  
"Right. Okay what about this. You told me growing up your family moved around a lot because of your dad's work. You didn't stay in one place longer than a year until you went to college in London. After you graduated from Cambridge my dad found you and offered you a job here, at this very building. The day you started was both our first days."  
"You could have read my personnel file," Gwen replied.  
"She always was a lot smarter than me," Wesley thought to himself.   
"You should have been the one to get the promotion," he said aloud. "You deserved it more. You're a lot smarter than me and you work harder than anyone here. Especially more than me. The only reason I got the promotion was because of who my dad is."  
"That's not true."  
Wesley perked up when she said this but when he looked at her he saw she had just done it as a reflex. She seemed to have noticed this too and looked surprised by it. While anyone else would have agreed with his statement she always told him to not say such things.  
"You could be better if you wanted to be," she always told him. "You are just as smart and if you wanted you could be an even better worker. Don't sell yourself short. When you want, you can be the hardest worker I know. You just usually work hardest at things you shouldn't, like getting out of work or sneaking off to the Caribbean."  
"Alright, what about this," Wesley said as he thought up another way to convince her. "Whenever you are happy you always listen to techno-rave music on your Mp3 player."  
She didn't look convinced by this trivia.  
"And when you are sad you listen to country. Like all the sad Taylor Swift songs, which is basically all of them." She started to object but he continued, "But you are rarely sad so I almost always hear techno-rave music blasting through your headphones."  
She folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. A sure sign she wasn't being convinced.  
"One day I actually took your player and looked at what your most listened to song was. I was surprised when I saw your most listened to song, by a hundred I might add, was "What hurts the most" by Rascal Flatts. Which didn't make sense to me, because as I said earlier, you are most of the time a pretty happy person. I'd rarely ever hear you listening to your country-sad-track. And whenever I did it was usually Taylor Swift or Dolly Parton. I asked you why it was your most listened to song, but you'd never tell me."  
Gwen was silent and he wasn't sure if it was because she believed him or because she was getting ready to call the police and was thinking about how she was going to keep him there till they arrived.   
When she finally did talk her voice was just above a whisper, "It was my most listened to song because I'd listen to it when I was home." Her voice choked and her eyes looked like they were going to spill over as she confessed, "Because it made me think of you."  
All he could focus on was how she'd said "you" and not "him." It wasn't till she'd started crying that he realized what she had in fact confessed. From what he remembered of the song it was basically about a guy who loved a girl but was never able to tell her how he felt.   
He remembered what she had said the cop. It wasn't till he saw her crying that he realized that it wasn't just some crush. She loved him.   
"Gwen," he reached out and touched her cheek. He wiped away a tear then raised her chin so she was looking at him. "I'm sorry I never saw it before. I'm a jerk. I never wanted to become my father but I have. He never saw my mother and I never saw you. I don't deserve you."  
Gwen took his hand and pressed it against her cheek as more tears streamed down her face. "I don't know if I completely believe you yet, but just in case..." She let go of his hand and wiped away her tears. As she looked at him again her sadness was gone, replaced with determination. "How can I help?"  
Wesley explained to her about his belief that the stream had been the cause for his transformation and how his father had paved over the area.  
"So now I'm stuck like this," Wesley concluded as he motioned to his teenage body. "Forced to grow up again."  
"But this means you can have a second chance. Be the man you always wanted to be outside your father's plans."  
"Easier said than done. I can't do anything with the police looking for me and no way for me to make money. I have no adult guardian."  
"I can help you there."  
Wesley shook his head. "I can't. You've done so much for me over the years. Constantly covering for me when I came in late to work. Making excuses for me when I puked on that British businessman and his wife. And those times you took care of me when I came in with a horrible hangover."  
"I helped you then because I wanted to. Not because I had to. And I want to help you now."  
Wesley wanted to argue with her but he could tell by the expression on her face that he wasn't going to be able to convince her otherwise. Instead he conceded. "Fine. Just for tonight I'll accept your assistance."  
"Fine. And then tomorrow I'll convince you to let me sponsor you."  
Wesley laughed as he shook his head. "You always were stubborn."  
The two exited the room and headed down the hall.   
Gwen smiled as she playfully bumped into him. "And you've always been a pain in my side."  
He poked her in the ribs. She cried out and he grinned. "You mean like that?"  
Gwen drove him across town to her home. It wasn't in a high class part of town like his or his ex-girlfriend's place. The buildings there were old and had cracks in the bricks. None of the cars parked outside were one of a kind, he saw several of the same car models down one street.   
The car pulled over in front of single story home with a rusted metal fence which made a horrible sound when Gwen opened it to let him in.  
"This is your place?" Wesley asked in astonishment as he walked up to the house. The paint of the home was cracked and peeling and the boards of the porch squeaked with age as he stepped on them.  
Gwen unlocked the door and entered ahead of him. "My dad's not a billionaire."  
Inside the home was neatly furnished. There was an old couch, a water ring stained coffee table, and an average size TV. The living room didn't have any excess decorations other than a few photos. Unlike his place which was furnished with multiple white couches, a faux white tiger rug, and several potted plants filled with fake bamboo along with several other things which the interior designer had said added to the feng shui of the room.  
Though it was small the whole home had a warm, lived-in feel to it that Wesley had never felt in his large penthouse.   
"It's very nice," Wesley told Gwen.  
She looked unsure about whether he was being serious or not.  
"I need to take my contacts out. I'll be right back."  
As she went upstairs Wesley walked into the living room and got a closer look at the photos. He found the same picture of him and her he had in his office. There were also photos of her and her family. She looked happy in all her photos. He noted that he didn't see any photos of her with any men that weren't her relatives.  
"Has she ever had a boyfriend?"   
He heard the stairs squeak as Gwen came back down the stairs. She was wearing a pair of thick framed black glasses and had changed into a pair of grey sweat pants and sci-fi themed T-shirt. At work she always looked like a mature businesswoman with her hair worn down in a medium cut. Here at home in a relaxed environment she had a cute geek chic mixed with girl next door look.  
"You hungry?"  
"At this age--always." He followed her into the kitchen.   
A small table with a single chair stood in the corner of the kitchen which had a fifties style refrigerator and gas powered stove. Wesley sat down in the chair so as to stay out of the way as Gwen opened the fridge and started pulling ingredients out.   
Before she started cooking she pulled her hair up and tied it in a messy bun. A small bit of hair fell down over her forehead as she bent over the stove to grab a spoon hanging behind it.   
"What are you making?"  
She smiled at him as she replied, "My famous spaghetti."  
He smiled back. "What makes it famous?"  
She pulled down a recipe book and began to flip through it. She pushed her glasses up as they slid down then said, "It's famous because I'm making it." She shot him a smile and a wink before looking back at the recipe book.  
Wesley was stunned by the way she was acting. At work they had talked about regular stuff and had interacted a few times outside work at business functions, but it had always had a co-worker feel about it. Now here, he felt a completely different vibe. More than just a hostess and her guest, more than two friends hanging out. It was like...  
"Are you flirting with me?"  
Gwen dropped her spoon on the floor when he asked this. She bent down and picked it up. She turned and walked over to the sink where she started to rinse the spoon.  
"What are you talking about?" she asked without looking at him. "I'm not acting any different than I usually do."  
He folded his arms as he replied, "You've never winked at me before."  
Gwen paused before she replied, "Sure I have." She turned back around to the stove. "I'm sure I have."  
"No. You are acting different. Even when we talked a lot the first year you were never this warm to me."  
"Maybe I'm just being warmer because I feel bad for what has happened to you."  
Wesley shook his head. "No that's not it." He grinned as a thought came to him. He snapped his fingers then said, "You're acting like this because you find me more attractive."  
She turned to face him so fast her glasses almost fell off. She readjusted them then said, "What are you talking about?"  
"You're a cougar," Wesley motioned to his teenage body as he said, "you like this kind of thing."  
Gwen was flustered as he used his adult "come-hither" look on her. "I am not attracted to teenage boys."  
"Then how do you explain all this chemistry in the air?"  
Gwen's nostrils flared in annoyance as she replied, "Delusional teenage fantasies. I think you are the one with the older woman-younger boy complex."  
Wesley tapped his chin thoughtfully as he replied, "That could be. My first girlfriend was five years older than me."  
Gwen rolled her eyes and turned back to the stove where her spaghetti sauce was starting to bubble over.  
Wesley could tell by the whiteness of her knuckles as she gripped the spoon to stir the sauce that his joke had run its course. He changed the subject.  
"I was looking at your photos in the living room. Are all those photos of family and friends?"  
"Yes. Minus the photo of you."  
Wesley felt the jab just as she had meant for him to. She was still sore about his cougar joke. "So no pictures of you and your boyfriend?"  
Gwen grabbed a jar of seasoning and sprinkled it in the sauce, "I don't have a boyfriend."  
"So you've already thrown out the old photos with him."  
She must have been so annoyed with him for his joke that she didn't notice he was fishing as she replied, "I haven't thrown out anything. I've never had a boyfriend."  
"Then your girlfrie--."  
Gwen dropped the salt into the sauce. She fished it out then said with her teeth tightly clenched together. "I haven't had any girlfriends either."  
Wesley smiled as he leaned back in his chair. "Good to know."  
Her hand paused mid stir and then she turned to look at him. He could tell by her look that she'd just realized what he'd been doing.  
"Wait, are you..." She seemed hesitant to voice her thought as if she feared he'd tell her she was wrong.  
"I'm seeing if you are free," Wesley replied casually with a cocky grin. "So I can ask you out as soon as I'm 18."  
Gwen frowned but not in an angry way. "Wesley, you can't think that way. We'll figure this out. We'll get you back to normal."  
Wesley shook his head. "No. I don't want to be normal. The guy I was before was a jerk. He never noticed you and treated people almost as bad as my father does. He didn't care about anything but himself. And even then he didn't care that much about himself. I did so many things I regret. If anything, I'd want to be someone else."  
"But if you're someone else, we'd never meet."  
Wesley had to admit that would be bad. In all the time he'd worked for his father, Gwen was the only bright spot. He hated what his life had become but he'd never trade his time with her for anything. It had taken him till now to realize it, but he cared for her as much as she for him.  
"Then I'd wish for a second chance, to do it all over again. I'd forget my dad's wishes for me to have an internship in high school and I'd get the degree I want."  
"And what would that be?"  
"Environmental Law. I've always loved nature and I hate it that my dad plowed over my special spot. I want to stop things like that from happening."  
"That's a good goal."  
Gwen set down the plate of noodles and sauce in front of him. He began to eat as she pulled in a piano bench to sit on.   
"And I'd learn things," he continued. "Like how to take care of myself without having to depend on maids and chefs. And I'd be a better person. I wouldn't treat ladies like accessories." He noticed Gwen's seat. "And I will learn how to offer a lady a seat instead of stealing the only one at the table."  
Gwen smiled. "Those are some really good goals."  
He reached across the table and took her head. "I'd become the kind of man you deserve. A man you didn't have to worry about covering for because he was hung over or worry that he was off in the Caribbean with models."  
Gwen squeezed his hand then let go as she began to eat. He hadn't noticed till that moment that she was left handed as she picked up the fork and began to cut up her spaghetti.  
"I used to draw," he said as the thought of left handed people being more artistic reminded him of his past-time. "I was really pretty good."  
"What happened?"  
"I got too busy with my work and school. After high school I completely gave up on it. I haven't done it in forever."  
Gwen must have heard the regret in his voice as she stood up and left the room. When she came back she had a notebook and pencil. She handed it to him.  
"I'm a little doubtful about just how good you are," she said with a smile. "How bout you prove it."  
He smiled and opened the notepad. He looked around the room quickly for something to draw. His eyes came to rest on her. He started sketching. He kept sketching till he was done.  
"I'd forgotten how much I loved this," he said as he set down his pencil and picked up the fork.  
Gwen took the pad and turned it to herself. He heard her gasp and felt pride for having gotten such a reaction.  
"This is really good. Are you sure you haven't done this in a long time?"  
He thought for a moment then said, "I guess that's not true. Sometimes I'd sketch a girl I was interested in on a bar napkin so I could get her number. But I never went into this much detail." He pointed to the picture which he had shaded so that it looked like a black and white photo of Gwen.  
"Is this just another pick up then?"  
She sounded annoyed. He shook his head in hopes of dissuading her anger.  
"No. When I think of drawing, I don't think of what I did in the bar to pick up girls. That was more like a trick. This," he pointed to the picture of her, "this is more of what I think of when I think of drawing. Capturing something I love on paper."  
Gwen blushed. He didn't understand why till he realized what he'd said.  
"Love?" she asked hesitantly.  
He nodded, unable to speak as he felt his own face flush. He really felt like a teenager now, just having confessed to his first love. Because really, she was the first girl he actually loved. All the others had just been a formality. Trophies for a billionaire playboy's life. He had never felt anything for any of them beyond wonder at their beauty. But even their outer beauty paled in comparison with the way Gwen looked to him now with her hair done up in a messy bun with large glasses and sweat pants. The warmth and kindness that always emanated from her and the way she smiled at everyone, including strangers, showed the beauty inside her. Unlike the girls he usually went after, she was beautiful inside and out.   
He reached across the table and lightly touched her cheek with his hand.   
"Gwen." He leaned in to kiss her.  
He was stopped as she placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back. "Ley, no."  
At first he didn't understand. Then he remembered how old he looked to her. He sat back down.  
He was really starting to get annoyed with this teen thing. He really wanted to kiss her but there was no way she was going to let him do it in his current form. Especially not after his bone-headed cougar joke.   
He slammed his hand down on the table, startling her. "I need to break this spell. Now."  
Gwen sympathetically rubbed his hand as she said, "We'll figure something out. We won't give up."  
After dinner Wesley felt exhausted. Gwen offered him her bed but he insisted the couch was fine. He was surprised when he laid down on the cushions of the couch of how comfy it actually was. His couch at home was as hard as a rock and he hated even sitting on it. It looked good, but it felt horrible.   
He thought about how the couch was a metaphor for his life before he fell asleep.

* * *

Wesley awoke to the sound of someone banging at the front door. He was dazed as he sat up and didn't recognize his surroundings. He didn't remember where he was till Gwen came downstairs dressed in a pair of drawstring pajama bottoms and pink tank top.   
Gwen stopped at the door and looked out. She looked panicked as she hurried over to him.  
"It's that detective."  
"What is he doing here?" asked Wesley, sounding just as worried as her.  
"I don't know. But you better get out of here."  
"I'm gonna head to the library to see if I can't find something about the spring."  
While Gwen answered the front door, Wesley snuck out the back. Again he had no transportation so he walked to the library. And seeing as he wasn't familiar with that part of town it took him a lot longer than he expected. By the time he got there it was already noon. He thought Gwen might already be there but when he looked around he couldn't find her.  
He decided she might have gone out looking for him so decided to wait. While he waited he started a search on the computer for magic water. He didn't find anything like what had happened to him, but by some similar accounts he decided that it must have been the spring of water that had changed him.   
More reading on water led him to believe that the spring he had frequented as a child might just have been getting its water from underground. So even if the building was built on top of it, there just might be some magic water under the ground.  
After that conclusion he began to research the office building more. He found that the basement of the building wasn't build with as thick of cement as he'd thought. His father had probably rushed them, hoping to get the spot covered up before Wesley would find out and stop try to stop him.   
Gwen arrived an hour later.   
"I was detained by the police," she admitted when he asked where she'd been.  
"Why?"  
"Because of you. Both of you, your teen form and your adult. Because I admitted to liking you to the detective he thinks I'm the most likely suspect to know anything about where you've gone. And since someone saw me with the blue haired teen, the one that left Mr. Newport's office, I'm now the prime suspect."  
"Then how did you get here?"  
"They didn't have any evidence so they had to let me go. Your father was not happy about that at all."  
Wesley could imagine how "not happy" his father would be. He felt bad for Gwen. "I think I may have found something." He explained about the underground water and rushed cement job.  
"That makes sense," Gwen said, "I've heard maintenance workers complaining about how the basement floor is always cracking and looking like there's water damage there. They are constantly having to re-cement it."  
"Then we'll start there. If we can break through the cement and get to the water maybe I can then reverse the spell and fix all this."  
"And if not?"  
"Then I'll dig a hole from outside the building down till I reach the underground spring."  
"And if that doesn't work."  
"It has to."  
Gwen must have seen the determination in his face as she didn't press him further.  
Wesley and Gwen hurried their plan along as they headed to the hardware store and bought a pick-ax and shovel. After that they headed to the office building. In the basement they found the crack in the floor.  
Wesley started to use the pick ax but Gwen stopped him.  
"Do you hear that?"  
Wesley stopped and listened. He heard it. It sounded just like police sirens.  
Gwen's phone vibrated and she looked at it. "It's a text from Julie, your dad's secretary. She says your dad had them check my credit card statement. They saw I just purchased the pick ax and shovel. They think I'm coming here to get rid of your body."  
Wesley swore as he thought about what this meant. If he couldn't reverse the spell his dad would never believe that Gwen hadn't killed him. She might even go to jail because of it.  
Gwen must have realized this too as she said, "I'll go stall the cops. You keep digging."  
"Wait."  
She turned to face him.  
"Just in case this doesn't work and I never get my chance."  
He reached out and pulled her into a kiss. She looked stunned as she turned and left the basement. As the police sirens drew closer he started to dig.

He could hear voices shouting outside the building as he dug through the last of the cement. He could hear his father's voice among one of the yelling voices. The other one sounded like the gravely voice of the detective. Whatever was going on, he knew he needed to hurry.  
"Please, let me make it in time."  
He moved away the last of the cement and started digging through the dirt. He'd hoped to hit the water in the first dirt full but after the fifth shovel full he started to worry he'd never find it.  
Then the sound of running feet coming towards him made him panic even more. They were coming for him and there was still no water. Even though Gwen had believed him he knew he'd never convince his father. Both him and Gwen would go away to jail and he'd never get to see her again. Or ever get to live the life he wanted.  
He thrust the shovel down in the hole and dug out another pile of dirt. Water gushed up from under ground. He knelt down beside the hole and reached into the water. It felt cold on his hands in a pleasant way. A breeze which smelled like spring blew past.  
"This is it."  
He closed his eyes and began to wish. He didn't know exactly how he had done it last time. What had activated it or caused it to be counted as a wish, but he tried anyway.  
"Please, give me another chance. I want to be with Gwen. I want to live a different life. I don't want to be like my father. Please don't let me be like my father. I want to start over. Please."  
He could hear his tears splash against the water inside the hole as he began to cry. He'd never felt so helpless in his life. He could hear the cops banging against the locked door of the basement. Any moment they would storm in and his life would be over.  
Even though he'd been made a teen again he'd never get to live the life he wanted. Never become the man he'd wanted to become for Gwen. And if he ever saw her smile again it probably would never be the same again after spending years in prison for a crime she didn't commit.  
The door of the basement cracked open and the policemen poured in. They cried out a bunch of things to him but he didn't hear a word. All he could hear was the bubbling of the water as it continued to rise up from below.  
"Please," he called inside his head as the officers pulled him away from the hole. "Please give me another chance. I'll do it right this time. Don't make me live this life. Don't make me go another day without her. Not now. Not after I've realized how much I need her."  
If he could just have more time with the water, he told himself, maybe it would work.   
He tried to struggle against the cop's hold but it was just too strong. He struggled harder and finally broke free. But as he did he felt his feet slip on something wet. He cried out as he watched the cement floor grow closer to his head. Then he saw and felt nothing.

* * *

Wesley woke with a headache.   
"That cement floor really did a number on me," he grumbled as he crawled out of bed. He walked to the bathroom and checked his head in the mirror. There wasn't any bump or blood but his head still hurt.  
"And I'm still a teenager," he told himself as he shuffled back into his bedroom.  
He wondered where Gwen was when he realized he wasn't in jail. He was in his bedroom. But not his bedroom as it was now, but as it had been when he was sixteen. There on the walls were his posters of his favorite bands. And there in the corner were his ratty old sneakers covered in mud. He was still wearing the clothes he had been wearing before but the fact that his shoes were in the corner, something he didn't remember doing, and the posters were on the wall, which they hadn't been in years, threw up red flags in his mind. And the fact that he wasn't in prison was the biggest flag of all.  
"What is going on?"  
He opened the door to his room and looked out. It was the same hallway he'd walked down in his youth. In the kitchen he found the fridge stalked with Sunny-D and other foods he'd eaten when he was younger and didn't care about how healthy it was.  
He turned on the TV and found the news reporting on events he'd already heard about from years past. Nothing from his 26 year old time period was being reported on. As he watched the reporters from his youth chat with each other a new question formed in his mind.  
"When am I?"  
He opened the TVs menu and found the date. It was the very day after his father had told him he was going to be an intern at his office. The very next day after he'd made his wish in the stream.  
Wesley pinched himself and when he found it not to be a dream he started to smile. If he had really gone back in time then he could finally have his chance. He could tell his father no. Tell him he was not going to be the man he wanted him to be. That he was going to go into environmental law and save his spring from his father's building. And he'd find Gwen. He'd be the man he'd promised her and be there for her in the way she had wanted. He knew he'd probably have to win her back. Though he remembered the events before the time jump there was probably very little chance she would too. But when he found her, and he would, he would get her to fall in love with him again. He wouldn't mess it up. Not this time.

* * *

Six Years Later

"I'm an environmental lawyer," Wesley smiled as he told this to the girl he'd met at the coffee shop.  
She smiled back politely and nodded as if what he'd said meant anything to her.  
"My dad's not happy about it. But I'm doing what I want. So I don't care what he thinks. He's also not very happy about that. But he's not happy about a lot of things I do. Like back when I was in my second year of college my dad was going to build over the forest in the back of our apartment but I stopped it. Mostly for selfish reasons. I spent a lot of time back there growing up. There's this little underground spring that flows there that has special meaning to me."  
The girl nodded again and started to look around. A signal that she wanted to end the conversation.  
"You probably don't know this but my dad actually owns the building you work at."  
The girl looked back at him. He had her attention.  
"How do you know where I work?" she asked with a hint of apprehension.  
"You probably also don't know this," Wesley continued, ignoring her question, "but the building that my father was going to build in the woods was where you would have been working. He had to build the office complex elsewhere."  
"Is this some kind of pick up line?" the girl asked. She was annoyed. Wesley could tell as her nostrils flared, "You think because your daddy owns the building I work in that I'll be impressed."  
Wesley smiled. He liked seeing this side of her again. It had been so long.  
"No," he replied. "I just wanted to say hi and welcome you to the company."  
Her expression instantly softened. "Oh. Okay. Thank you."  
She still seemed unsure by why he had talked to her. And he could tell by the way she looked at him that she wondered how he had known she worked at his father's company. Today was her first day there. She had just come from there on her lunch break.  
"My name is Wesley by the way." He held out his hand to her.  
She smile pleasantly as she held out her own hand. He caught a whiff of spring from her as she took his hand.  
"I'm Gwen. It's very nice to meet you."  
His smile widened. "Indeed it is."  
He followed her as she exited the restaurant. "By the way, do you like spaghetti? I make a mean tomato sauce."


End file.
